


Peace

by doridoripawaa



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bittersweet, Dimimari, F/M, Goddess Tower, dance, some dark implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26150635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doridoripawaa/pseuds/doridoripawaa
Summary: Marianne is overwhelmed on the night of the ball, and so she makes an escape. Much to her surprise, she isn't the only one who fled the scene. A DimiMari one-shot.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Peace

Sometimes, even the brightest stars struggled to shine through thick clouds.

"Oh, Goddess," Marianne murmured as she stumbled out of the ballroom. "I finally escaped…."

The night of the Garreg Mach ball was full of laughter and lights, dance and drama, feasts and formal wear, socialization and snacks, and for some, passion and promises. Almost all of the students, teachers, and staff alike at the academy had been waiting for this night with bated breath, awaiting the magical moments that were bound to begin once the clock struck. 

However, Marianne von Edmund had been dreading this night for weeks now, and she had felt like a horse trapped in its stable until she could break free just now.

_ "Don't be such a party pooper!" Hilda scolded her gently. "You should have some fun!" _

_ "I'd like to see you smile, Marianne," Ignatz had added a bit sheepishly. "I bet it's a work of art." _

_ "Well  _ I  _ would love to see you don a dress, Miss Marianne," Lorenz had chimed in, smirking as he flickered his gaze over the flustered blue-haired girl. _

_ "She's a lady, Lorenz, not an hors d'oeuvre." Claude shook his head and sighed as Lysithea smacked the noble with the back of her tome. "Besides, we have uniforms to wear." He turned his sparkling but sympathetic gaze onto Marianne. "In any event, we will all be going, and it would be a shame if you weren't there. I could even offer you a dance, if you'd like." The heir to House Riegan winked at her before turning back to Hilda, who was already making plans for her makeup, accessories, and deciding just how "fashionably late" she wanted to arrive. _

"I wasn't having fun," she mumbled, and she began to traverse the stone hallways that led back to her dormitory. "Claude… didn't even offer to dance with me."

That was probably for the best. Marianne had never tried to waltz or tango or do any other popular formal dance, and she was willing to bet that she would have stomped all over the dark-haired boy's toes as they stumbled around the dance floor. "I'm nothing but bad luck, anyway." She looked down at her feet as they shuffled along, her body leading the way while her mind stayed at a distance, ensnared by brooding storm clouds. 

She didn't have a right to revelry. She shouldn't have the fun of festivities. She didn't deserve the joy of jubilee.

In the perfect world that Marianne envisioned, she would be….

The mage stopped short in the middle of a grassy field, one of the minor gardens on campus grounds. She looked up at the building before her, expecting to see her lonely (albeit comfortable) bedroom door staring back at her. Much to her surprise, the structure that she was facing was much taller, much more ominous, and yet… much more radiant. 

Unconsciously, her troubled, trembling feet had led her to the Goddess Tower.

She usually prayed in the Cathedral, but the whispers of a whimsical legend whipped up in her mind as she gaped at the tower before her. On the night of the ball…

"Oh, Goddess," Marianne murmured as she slowly raised her shivering hands. Maybe, if she made her prayer  _ here _ , on  _ this  _ night, the goddess would finally heed her cries. She struggled to interlock her fingers as her hands shook violently, but with enough focus, she ended up being able to lace her hands together. Marianne bowed her head respectfully, then parted her lips to continue her prayer.

"May you please forgive me for my sins and set free the ones who I have caused to struggle and suffer."

Marianne stood with her mouth gaping open, stunned. Hearing the words within her own heart, spoken by another, was jarring, to say the least. She dared to lift her chin and follow the sound of that deep, reverent, sorrowful voice. A voice full of anguish and regret.

Who else had suffered so miserably as to turn to the goddess for such a desperate plea?

The student before her was not shadowy and somber, carrying an air of death and destruction like herself. Rather, his glimmering golden hair and his crisp cerulean cape were nothing short of stunning. She felt as though she were trying to peek at the sun, and accordingly, she feared that if she stared too long, her eyes would burn.

Why was Dimitri, the radiant, regal, and popular crown prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, suddenly having his light blocked by thick, dark clouds?

Marianne wasn't sure of what to do next. Should she continue to pray and just ignore him? That course of action felt rather rude; although they were not in the same house, they were classmates, and they had spoken once or twice before. Should she confront him or try to console him? That would require her to admit she had overheard him, which would be comfortable for both parties. Should she just give him a casual hello, as if she had just arrived to the tower, in order to try to ensure that he was all right? That would require her to actually speak to him, though.

Her body began to act ahead of her mind for the second time that evening. Heel, toe, heel, toe. The Golden Deer girl's boots cracked against the stones as she approached Dimitri, whose head was still bowed to the goddess. As she got closer, she couldn't help but notice how fair his skin was. Did Faerghus get enough sunlight? She also saw that his eyelashes nearly reached his cheeks. Long, fair, and dainty. He was like a prince out of a storybook, a true beauty.

A beast like herself had no right to associate with such beauty.

The echoes of her steps must have caught Dimitri's attention, because seemingly out of nowhere his head perked up and his eyelids fluttered open. He turned to look at her, and the corners of his mouth stretched into a smile. "Good evening, Marianne," he greeted her politely.

How could a smile seem so… sad?

"G-good evening, Your Highness," she stammered. “I… was just…”

“Dimitri is fine,” he interrupted her, then his face flushed. “Sorry. I did not mean to cut you off,” he told her quickly, and then he coughed slightly to clear his throat. “Let’s try that again, shall we? Good evening, Marianne.” He mustered another smile, although this one looked slightly embarrassed.

That was better than sad, at least.

“Good evening, D-Dimitri,” she replied, and she bowed curtly. She wasn’t sure of what else to say, and for a moment they stood there in silence, gawking at each other. Clouds obscured the stars and moon above, so their only source of light was the harsh yellow glow coming from the main hall of the ball.

“You aren’t dancing?” Dimitri asked at last, and Marianne felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. Right now, she was grateful for any conversational topic, as silly or trite as it might seem.

“I… cannot really dance,” she admitted, and she felt heat rise to her pallid cheeks. “My adoptive father thankfully never pushed that practice onto me. He… I think he knew I’d be no good.”

Dimitri frowned at her, and Marianne felt herself growing smaller beneath his intense azure gaze. “No good?” he echoed. “I’m sure that isn’t the case.”

“Do they dance a lot in Faerghus, Dimitri?” Marianne asked, hoping to turn the attention away from her as swiftly as possible. “Don’t you want to dance?”

The prince seemed just as uncomfortable under the spotlight as she did. She could not fault him for that: the spotlight was sweltering hot, blindingly bright, and hopelessly flashy. The mage hated when any attention came to her; she was the type of being who should remain sequestered to the shadows.

“Ballroom dancing is somewhat of a tradition in Faerghus,” he informed her, nodding slowly. “I will be expected to dance at my eventual coronation.” His lips stretched into another bittersweet smile. “I would have loved to share that dance with my stepmother, but alas…” He shook his head, seemingly eager to eradicate any negativity from his mind and from their conversation. “I actually learned how to dance thanks to an Adrestian noble, though.”

“Really?” Marianne leaned forward despite herself. “Was she a good teacher?” She tried to envision some of the students from the Black Eagles house engaging in formal dancing. Seeing as how Ferdinand had actually won the White Heron Cup, she could believe that the empire had its fair share of formal education in the art of dance.

“She was critical and calculating,” Dimitri reflected, and he chuckled slightly. “She would never step on my toes on accident, but she would do it on purpose. Faerghus’ court dance requires the man to lead and the woman to follow, but I swear she led me around the garden like she was dragging a sack of potatoes.” His eyes were swimming with memories, both fond and forlorn, but Marianne couldn’t help but notice the lightness of his voice and the laughter in his eyes. He seemed genuinely happy when he spoke of this noble. “But when she danced, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She was like a flame on a candlestick -- small but powerful, dazzling but dangerous.” 

Dimitri suddenly stopped his chortling and turned to look directly at Marianne. His face was as pink as Hilda’s hair, and he raised his hands to try to conceal his face from her view. “F-forgive me for getting carried away,” he stammered. “I can’t stand the thought that I am keeping you from the festivities.”

Marianne shook her head to reassure him that he was not holding her back from anything. “I can’t dance,” she reminded him gently, “and I can’t… really socialize very well, either. I came out here for some fresh air.” She paused, and then she lifted her hands up to her face to suppress a soft giggle. “I like listening to you, though. I can… I can listen well enough.”

Dimitri was still pinker than a fresh-picked peach, but his shoulders seemed to slacken and he allowed his hands to fall to his sides. “Shall we sit?” he offered. “I wish we had a bench out here, though.” He crossed his arms over his chest and began to spin around, searching for a suitable location for the two of them to rest.

“The ground is fine,” Marianne mumbled. “Honestly.” Before the blond could protest, she lowered herself onto the grassy earth, flattening its surface with her palms and then planting herself comfortably on the hard-packed, but surprisingly soft, soil.

Dimitri seemed skeptical, but nevertheless he nodded sharply and walked over to Marianne, taking a seat beside her.

“So…” Marianne was unsure of how to broach the topic, and part of her did not want to even bring up what she had seen. Somehow, though, after seeing Dimitri’s tightly clenched hands and hearing his pitiful pleas, she did not think she would be able to live with herself if she completely ignored his suffering. Nobody else here at Garreg Mach deserved to suffer. “Why aren’t you at the ball? I mean… I’m sorry, that was rather forward. Um, I… I’m not good at this.” She fumbled around her words and began to pick at the grass by her sides, suddenly wishing she could just disappear. “Forget I said anything….”

Dimitri gently stretched his hand out, reaching his fingers over to pat her hand for reassurance. His fingers merely brushed against hers, though, and then they pulled away faster than an assassin on horseback. “That’s a good question,” he told her reassuringly. “I suppose I got a bit overwhelmed. I appreciate that so many people want to dance with me, but I…”

“You don’t want to dance with them?” Marianne guessed. Dimitri nodded, looking a bit ashamed of himself. “You’re allowed to feel the way you feel, Dimitri.”

Dimitri blinked gratefully at her. “To be honest, there’s only one person with whom I wish to dance, but… That dream will never come true.”

Again, silence. Marianne cast her gaze up to the sky for a second, trying to discern any of the stars. “Is it that noble girl?” she guessed. She could barely make out a star glinting from behind a wispy white cloud.

Silence.

“I-I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “I shouldn’t have assumed…” Oh, Goddess, what she would do to get away and pretend this entire exchange had never happened! “I’ll just… be on my way,” she added hastily, already rising to her feet. “Have a good n-”

“Where are you going?”

That was not exactly the response she had expected.

Twirling a loose blue lock of hair around her fingers, Marianne kept her eyes locked on her shoes as she mumbled, “Back to my room, probably.”

“Why?”

He didn’t sound angry. He didn’t sound accusatory. He didn’t even sound confused.

He just sounded… hurt. And that broke Marianne’s heart.

“You shouldn’t spend time with me,” Marianne muttered bitterly, now chewing at the split ends of her cyan hair. “I bring bad luck to everyone around me.”

Dimitri scoffed and tossed back his head. “Nonsense,” he asserted, and he spoke with such conviction that Marianne almost believed it to be true, that she was just uttering nonsense.

Unfortunately, she had the facts to support her allegations.

“It’s true,” she insisted. With each word she spoke, she balled her hands tighter and tighter into fists. “I’m the reason why the Deer lost the Battle of Eagle and Lion. I’m the reason why Flayn got kidnapped.” Did he just roll his eyes at her? “I’m the reason why the Death Knight came here!”

At the mention of that name, Dimitri’s back straightened up and his jaw clenched. “Is that so?” he responded coolly. The chill in his voice sent shivers straight down Marianne’s spine. “Tell me, Marianne,” he murmured, and he turned his head incrementally towards her, creeping inch by inch until his gaze was piercing directly through her eyes and into her very soul. “Did you call the Death Knight here?”

Marianne faltered as she tried to find her words. Her knees began to buckle underneath her weight, and somehow she forgot the entirety of the Fodlan language. “N-n-no,” she managed to sputter out at last. “But misfortune follows wherever I go. If I had gone to some other school, then he would’ve followed me there, too.”

Her explanation seemed to satisfy him. All at once, the iciness faded from Dimitri’s expression, the stiffness subsided from his body, and he was able to smile at her once more. “I’ve had my fair share of misfortune before I ever met you,” he told her. “I’m sure you know of the Tragedy of Duscur. Don’t try to tell me that was your doing, too.”

Marianne blushed and folded her arms across her chest. “I… I’m not the only source of negative luck in this world,” she conceded. “Sometimes… bad things just happen.”

“Precisely.” Dimitri stretched his hands above his head, and he extended his fingers up towards the few stars that were poking through the blanket of clouds. Finally he pushed himself up into a standing position beside Marianne, and he reached a hand out towards her. “Tell me, Marianne. Have you heard the legend of the Goddess Tower?”

Marianne nodded slowly, uncertain of where he was heading with this idea. “Yes. If two people make a wish together on the night of the ball at the Goddess Tower, then…” Oh. She had forgotten that critical part of the legend when she had strayed upon the tower earlier. “Then their wish will come true.”

Dimitri still stood with his hand outstretched. “I don’t think the goddess listens as much as people like to believe,” he admitted. “I think that even when she sees people suffering, she stays up in her lofty perch and won’t even extend a hand. She leaves us to fend for ourselves.” He took a step closer, so that the tips of his fingers were almost touching Marianne’s chest.

“But I will. I will be a king who reaches out to all in need, regardless of their origin, regardless of their status, regardless of their Crest-- Marianne, are you crying?” He stopped short, taken aback by the sudden tears flowing from Marianne’s amber eyes.

Would it console him or concern him to know that Marianne herself hadn’t even realized she was crying until he pointed it out?

“I… That was beautiful,” was all she managed to murmur. “Should… should we make a wish anyway? Should we give the goddess another chance?”

Dimitri drew his hand back and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I’m not against the idea,” he conceded, “but what would we wish for?”

Marianne turned to ogle the tower again, squinting as she tried to make out the Blue Sea Star overhead. During this late moon, on this cloudy night, she didn’t expect to see it, though. “I guess…” She knew exactly what she would wish for. She would make the same wish that she had been reiterating for days, weeks, moons. The adoptive daughter of Count von Edmund could never admit her deepest desire, though, or else she knew it would never come to be true. Above all, what did she really want?

“I would wish for peace,” she decided at last. “For myself and for all of those I care about.”

“Peace,” Dimitri echoed. “For everyone.” A steely, icy glint appeared in his eyes once more, but it disappeared as soon as he turned his attention to the tower as well. “I think you and I are quite alike, Marianne,” he offered. “Let’s wish for peace, shall we?”

Both of them clasped their hands and prayed, although Dimitri seemed to take a little longer to complete his conversation with the goddess.

The two of them turned away from the tower in silence, and Marianne prepared to head back to her quarters. “Well, it’s getting late,” she began. “Good n-”

“Marianne,” Dimitri interrupted again, and this time, he did not apologize. “I was wrong. There is one other person with whom I wish to have a dance tonight.” The stars glittered overhead, illuminating the field around them. Their ballroom. The blond lord extended his hand once more.

This time, Marianne accepted it.

**Author's Note:**

> THANKS FOR LETTING ME BE SELF-INDULGENT, CYNTHIA! <3


End file.
